


(You Won't) Fall For That

by 1lostone



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, rimming as an Olympic Sport
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-07
Updated: 2012-03-07
Packaged: 2017-11-01 14:19:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/357787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1lostone/pseuds/1lostone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the middle of shore leave, the drunken bet seemed like a lark: “Get Spock laid.” Leonard found himself laughing just as much as the rest of them. What a ridiculous idea....</p><p> </p><p>EDIT: 1 July, 2015, for typos.  Yikes, sorry!</p>
            </blockquote>





	(You Won't) Fall For That

**Author's Note:**

  * For [darlapr0duction](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=darlapr0duction).



**Notes:** Written for [](http://darlapr0duction.livejournal.com/profile)[**darlapr0duction**](http://darlapr0duction.livejournal.com/)’s prompt for the [](http://help-midwest.livejournal.com/profile)[**help_midwest**](http://help-midwest.livejournal.com/) challenge. [](http://darlapr0duction.livejournal.com/profile)[**darlapr0duction**](http://darlapr0duction.livejournal.com/) prompted this several, _several_ months ago- even though I told her I had a few other fics to finish first. She was endlessly patient. BB, I hope you enjoy this. I tried to get everything in from your prompt, but you’ll see where it went in a few other places! Thanks to[](http://jademac2442.livejournal.com/profile)[ **jademac2442**](http://jademac2442.livejournal.com/) for her ninjabeta skillz and endless patience, and to [](http://jlm121.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://jlm121.livejournal.com/)**jlm121** for the cheerleading and occasional kick in the butt to remind me SPONES WRITE SPONES NOWWW. :) I love you guys! Oh yeah. Title taken from Three Card Trick, by the Clash. ♥

 

 

 

* * *

 

_Leonard watched as the muscle in Spock’s jaw twitched. It was like his damn eyes couldn’t look away from the small, seemingly involuntary movement. It was hard to make himself forget what that slightly greenish-pale skin tasted like. He tried to hide a shudder by tightening his hands into fists._

_Leonard’s skin felt too hot. No, too cold. The bright lights in the transporter room seemed all at once like something out of a nightmare. Spock stood in stark relief against the pale walls, like a painting that had not yet been finished. His civilian clothes were completely unadorned; the serviceable black tunic and heavier black trousers tucked neatly into his boots. Even with everything, Leonard’s first thought was that he looked fucking amazing. The fact that_ he _had bought Spock the tunic just made everything just that much more terrible, somehow. A karmic punch in the balls. The alcohol in his stomach lurched, and Leonard felt  as though he was going to spew vomit all over the pristine deck. Bile tasted sour in the back of his throat._

_He was not new to feeling guilty. God, of course not. But this... watching that one, tiny indicator of how close Spock was to losing control, seeing how absolutely... blankly Spock stood there... it was its own version of torture._

_“Spock.”_

_Spock’s attention snapped to Jim. Fuck. Leonard hadn’t even heard the door slide open. Leonard didn’t know what expression was on his face, but he turned like a puppet towards Jim as his friend stalked confidently forward, but whatever it was, Jim didn’t even bother to acknowledge it. And that... that was somehow almost as painful as Spock’s reaction._

_“C’mon, Spock. I need your help. Shore Leave’s all done. Time to get our shit together. By that I mean time for you to get my shit together for me, so that I keep up with my unfailing fucking awesomeness.”  Jim’s voice was too loud, jarring in the acoustics of the room. His smile wasn’t anything close to his normal 100-wattage. If anything, it was brittle and just as fake as his jocularity.  It didn’t fool Spock. It sure as fuck didn’t fool Leonard. But it might fool the ensign stuck on third shift, manning the transporter console. Maybe._

_“Indeed, Captain. I shall join you momentarily.”_

_Spock took very fourteen very precise steps to the doorway, and disappeared through it without another word; he passed close enough that Leonard could smell his sharp, spicy scent, close enough that the recycled air currents swirled close to Leonard’s skin. Leonard turned to Jim, reaching out the way he had a hundred times before to grasp Jim’s forearm. He was shocked when Jim jerked his arm away hard enough that Leonard lost his balance, causing him to lurch hard enough to the right that he scraped his hip on the console._

_“You know, it’s not even what you did. Don’t get me wrong. I’m so fucking pissed off at you right now that I can’t even stand to look at you. But the way you used_ me _to do it? That... that was just fucked up, B-bones.”_

_Leonard just closed his eyes, not missing the quick look the ensign gave him under her eyelashes, nor the way Jim edged around him to leave the room. Especially not missing the slight way Jim’s voice cracked over his name._

_Closing his eyes didn’t help. He could still see Spock’s too-careful, completely blank face. A statue. A Vulcan statue._

_But Spock’s eyes told a different story. And Leonard had a feeling that he wouldn’t be able to forget that, or the hurt that was so damn obvious in them, any time soon._

*~*~*~*~*

“Ah! I can’t be sayin’ if or not he actually has a stick up his arse, but it seems that there’s som’th’n botherin’ the Commander. ‘An’ it could be...” Scotty burped quietly, gesturing with his hands. “...vaguely stick-like in appearance, seems t’me.”

“Pointy-eared...green-blooded...” Leonard grunted and took another drink, aware that the insult was rather on the pathetic side. The whiskey burned his throat in the best way possible, and for a second he felt light-headed as he knocked the double back, slamming the green glass onto the counter. Leonard didn’t know how in Bessie’s bleeding bloomers they got shit this good in the back of the goddamn beyond, but he wasn’t about to complain. He’d been on shore leave for exactly twenty minutes, and could already tell that he probably wasn’t going anywhere  anytime soon.

“So, I take it y’have a wee bit of an issue with our favorite Commander?”

“I’d say. Jim might not think anything of the way that hobgoblin just stuck him on that ice cube, but _I_ sure as fuck have a few things to say about it. Did you know that he got chased by two different fucking monsters? One was so poisonous that it took Jim two weeks. _Two weeks_ of treatments with his damn-fool physiology to recover. That was at the finest facilities in Starfleet Medical, mind you. Then on the bridge...”

Leonard’s hand tightened around the glass, all at once furious at his own impotence. He hadn’t been able to stop Spock from marooning Jim on Delta Vega, and Spock’s little snotty reply made his blood fucking _boil_ every time he thought about it. And even worse, the way Leonard himself just sat there like an idiot with his thumb up his ass when Jim goaded Spock into losing his shit right there on the goddamn bridge....

He’d just stood there.

Leonard took another drink, finishing it off in one gulp. It was their first shore leave, and they were only going to be here one night. Seventeen more hours, to be exact. Jim had barely sat still for the slew of his standard STD inoculations before practically sprinting off that damn tin can he was so proud of, on the hunt for ‘as much pussy as I can fuck into whatever surface was available’ with a slap on Leonard’s back that caused him to roll his eyes. 

Jim had only been Captain long enough to break in his two pairs of ‘Fleet-issued black boots, but it was kind of endearing the way he was trying so hard to be such a good Captain. “Good Captains don’t fuck their crew,” he’d said. Which was true enough, and not really Leonard’s business anyway.

“Yeah, well, that guy needs to get laid more than anyone on any planet, ever.” Leonard raised an eyebrow, nodding in that way that people set on becoming shit-faced nod at acquaintances. Leonard knew him vaguely from the ship. Jim called him Cheesecake or something. “You guys don’t mind if I join you, do you sirs?”

“Dinna be callin’ me sir, laddie. I’m on leave. Under protest, mind you. Commander Spock suggested that I would ‘benefit mentally from some relaxation and rest not conducted on the ship.’” Scotty made a sound that was more reminiscent of one of the barn cats at the old McCoy farm hawking up a hairball, and Leonard hid his smile behind another drink of his drink.

“Yeah?” Leonard vaguely recognized the burly-looking ensign as he swung his leg around the seat, plopping down on his chair. “I couldn’t help but overhear you two.”

Leonard had a small niggle of discontent before  drowning it in another shot of the fine whiskey.  He wasn’t much for drinking with people he didn’t know very well, let along people from the ship that he might have to put back together one day.  Still, Cheesecake (Carrot cake? Cupcake?) liked his drink, and given that he only had a few hours, Leonard figured he might as well get shitfaced.

Later, Leonard couldn’t have said who the idea came from. Maybe it was Scotty. Maybe it was Whatshisname. Maybe it was him. But once the idea took ahold of him, Leonard found that he couldn’t shake it. He couldn’t stop imagining it.

He’d admit to having somewhat of an addictive personality. There was no doubt that once he judged something worthy, he completely put everything that he was into it until the damn problem got resolved, one way or another. Like his marriage with Joce. Leonard hadn’t been blind to the fact that he’d been neglecting his wife. Maybe he had expected that she would be a tad bit more loyal. More understanding. It wasn’t like he was stepping out on her. Hell, he’d been doing clinic hours on top of his residency, on _top_ of adding a concentration in xenopsychology. Some nights he hadn’t been able to make it home until the very wee hours of the morning, only to slap at the snooze a few hours later as he started his whole day over.  Leonard had wanted to make sure his wife had all of the trinkets and bibs and bobs nonsense that she was used to before marrying down into the McCoy clan, so he’d worked his ass off to get them for her.

Unfortunately, while he was working, she was sharing blankets with Clay. Leonard had been completely blind-sided, a small, screaming part of his brain not believing the facts until he saw them thrusting into his wife, saw the claw marks that she wouldn’t put on him, criss-crossing themselves on the broad, muscled expanse of Clay’s back. Leonard’s eyes had met Joce’s; had seen the determined flicker of recognition, had watched her head tip back in pleasure as she came.

By the time she’d finished, he’d been gone.

He’d stayed with his daddy at first, working himself even harder until he was exhausted, going through the mockery of his happy life almost in a fugue state. His daddy wasn’t one much for bullshit, and had called him on it frequently, going so far as to slap him upside the head a few, well-deserved times.

But when daddy had gotten sick.... There had been nights where he hadn’t slept. Weeks when he hadn’t taken the time to shower, to eat anything. He’d done everything he could to find the cure. Everything he could think of, and some things he no one would think of....

Yeah. Leonard could be one obsessive son-of-bitch when he felt it necessary.

The plan, hatched after who the hell knew how many shots, had been simple. Get Spock Laid. Hire a hooker for him, have her seduce him, then sit back and they’d have the last laugh, knowing that the Vulcan wasn’t so damn aloof as he pretended to be. That night, the three of them had found this hilarious, and talked about it endlessly, each of them trying their hand at making a “Spock-like ‘O’ face, or wondering if Vulcan junk was even compatible with human sexual organs. 

Leonard had found himself laughing along with them. He’d known full well that Spock had all the same plumbing as humans, but hadn’t felt comfortable sharing that with the other two. It had been more fun to listen as the other two imagined Spock with a detachable dick, or some kind of furry muff like a woman. There had been more drink, and more stupidity until the alarm had gone off, reminding the three that their leave was almost over. They had made their staggering way back to the ship, Scotty to his bed, Cupcake (Turns out his name was Halloran. He hated the monkier Jim had stuck him with.) off to his quarters, and Leonard to sickbay for some detox hypos.

Leonard had fallen asleep with his hands pillowed on his desk, and had completely forgotten about their little idea almost as soon as he’d wiped the grit from his eyes and started back on his shift.

 

*~*~*~*~*

“Doctor.”

Leonard jumped, swearing when his knee hit the end of the biobed. He turned, rubbing his knee at Spock’s cool tone. Long practice had him making sure that he hadn’t disturbed his patient with his gracelessness. 

“Be with ya in just a sec, Commander.” Leonard couldn’t help the way his posture straightened, nor the slight anger in his tone of voice. Figured. A whole room full of fully-trained staff, and Spock bothers _him_ when he could clearly see that Leonard was busy.

“Very well.”

Leonard rolled his eyes and made a shooing motion with his hand, finishing up his readings on Ensign Jakers before removing his gloves and turning around. Chapel gave him a weird look as she jerked her head towards one of the private areas and Leonard sighed gustily before stepping inside the room.

“Alright, what the hell was so important that you couldn’t let Nurse--- _Jesus Christ, Spock_!”

Leonard’s eyes widened as he immediately took a step forward, reaching blindly for the gloves that were on the supply counter to his left. Spock’s hand was wrapped in a towel that had started off as white, but was now bright green with his blood.

“Doctor, while my given name is habitually unpronounceable by the human tongue, I must inform you that my mother was not religious enough to name me after....”

Leonard moved the ends of the towel away from Spock’s wounded hand, ignoring the way Spock blew out a heavy breath at the slight movement. For Spock that was pretty much a pain-filled cry of agony.  “Why the fuck didn’t you say something? Or let someone else see it?  Jesus, you’re gushing like a damn stuck pig...” 

He reached for the smaller suture laser, unsure of the amount of damage that needed to be treated. He dropped the towel, ignoring the way it hit the deck with a sickening splat and immediately saw the problem. Spock had somehow ripped the skin of his palm, his digitus medius and digitus annularis, deeply enough that a good-sized chunk of the flesh of his ring finger was completely mutilated. It looked like a bite of some sort, as though teeth had ripped through the flesh, then had ripped it further when the teeth were removed. Leonard turned and reached for the proper, smaller hypo that Chapel had obviously set aside for him, the bright green tip showing Leonard at a glance that it was a strong antiseptic to combat the infection from the bite.

“Doctor McCoy, is it customary for you to use such... colorful metaphors while you work? I admit that I was not fully cognizant of this medical technique. Is it meant to distract you or your patient?”

Leonard shut his mouth with a click of his teeth. “What the hell got at you, Spock? You’re damn lucky that it didn’t take off your finger!” He began to suture where he could, ignoring the blood that dripped steadily down his own glove, and onto his wrist, staining his uniform. He refused to rush this, knowing full well how sensitive Vulcan hands were. Leonard looked up, and almost dropped the small instrument when he saw the slight tinge of green on Spock’s cheeks. His eyes narrowed before he looked back down at Spock’s fingers, finishing the suturing and beginning to blot the dried blood off of Spock’s hand and wrist.

They were in the middle of space. It wasn’t like Spock had been munched on while on an away mission. There hadn’t been any dirtside contact for a good month. Where the fuck would he had gotten a _bite_? And it was definitely a bite of some sort.

“Spock?” He darted his gaze back up to find that Spock was watching him work with a face carefully blank, except for the way the tips of his ears had gone slightly green. Leonard had the impression that Spock was hiding something. If it had been Jim sitting here, Leonard would have just berated him until Jim told him what he wanted to know.  But he and Spock weren’t friends. That approach wouldn’t work. “Look, you can tell me or I can have you tell the Captain. But you know Jim. He’ll be laughing about whatever damnfool stunt you pulled. And we’re on this boat for four and a half more years, Spock. At least with me, you know I have’ta keep it behind my teeth. But you’re gonna explain yourself, Commander.”

Leonard watched as Spock straightened his shoulders, his left eyebrow climbing to just under his hairline. Leonard just met his gaze, waiting him out.

“ Lieutenant Uhura gave me a gift for my natal day.”

“What the fuck did she give you, a vampire?” Leonard pulled away and found a pain-killer.  It wouldn’t last very long with Spock’s physiology, but it would numb the area enough for him to finish. The hiss of the hypo was loud in the private medical room.

“Negative. It was... a _sehlat_.”

Leonard blinked. The urge to laugh caused him to wheeze for a second, biting his bottom lip hard enough to hurt. “Say what now?”

The look Spock gave him would had probably withered a lesser human into a shaking pike of goo. Leonard just raised his eyebrow back, giving up the ghost of trying to keep in his laughter. He managed not to laugh in Spock’s face, but that was only because he was distracted by the darker shade of green on the tips of Spock’s ears. He’d never noticed them before, really. Well okay you couldn’t not notice Vulcan ears. They were kind of obvious after all. But Spock’s had a slightly more graceful tilt to the cartilage, the tip less bulky than that of a full-blooded Vulcan.

“A _sehlat_ , as one with your extensive xenobiologic background must know, Doctor,” Spock’s breath hitched just slightly as Leonard cleaned at the now sutured cuts, administering the antiseptic with a slight brush of his fingertips, “can be rather temperamental. Nyota, however, was not aware of their tendency towards physically demonstrative regard.”

“Affection, huh. Funny, Spock, I never thought of you as someone who would call a few bites affectionate.” Leonard finished his work, bending down over Spock’s hands so that he could view his work with his own eyes. He knew he had equipment that would allow him to view it with microscopic precision, but Leonard wanted to make damn sure.  

Spock raised an eyebrow.  “Perhaps, Doctor, that is indicative of the fact that you do not ‘know’ me at all.”  He left as quietly as he’d arrived.

It took Leonard almost a full minute to shut his mouth.

*~*~*~*~

It wasn’t until Spock saved Jim’s life for the first time that Leonard really started to acknowledge that he had an... issue. Jim had been torn apart. He and Spock had beamed on board in a swirl of lights, Spock almost covered with Jim’s blood. Spock hadn’t even looked fazed as he calmly gripped the makeshift tourniquet that kept Jim from completely bleeding out, his hands strangely graceful as the strength in them kept his Captain alive.

Leonard was barking out orders almost before they had finished materializing, trusting to the competency of Chapel and Fitzpatrick as he and Spock lifted Jim onto the gurney. Spock normally would have had no problem completing the task himself, but Jim’s wounds were severe enough that Spock ended up straddling Jim’s bulkier body on the gurney, holding on while Leonard began trying to stabilize him, unable to let go.

“What the fuck happened?! That was supposed to be a peaceful planet!”

“Indeed. Perhaps, Doctor McCoy, someone neglected to tell them that.”

“They just opened fire, Doc.  The Captain pushed Spock out of the way, and they lit into him.” Sulu was looking pale enough that one of the nurses following them to the medbay stopped him with a hand on his arm, gently drawing his gaze away from his blood-soaked hands.

Crew members flattened themselves to the wall as they ran by, then it was a blur of desperation and skill and reluctant praying that he was talented enough to _not fuck this up god please let him be able to fix this--_

Much later, after rebuilding part of Jim’s cardiovascular system from damn near scratch, an exhausted Leonard had made his way to his office. He had just taken a shower and had been too tried to dry himself off properly; the slightly too-small scrubs he wore were fine for the relative relaxation of his whiskey and the calmness of his quiet office. He had been sitting there with his head in his hands, elbows resting on his old-fashioned desk-blotter when the doors had slid open.

“He’s fine, Spock.” Leonard had been speaking before the Vulcan could open his mouth, knowing why he was there. In the past year or so of serving together, Leonard had tried his damndest not to get in the way of the friendship between Spock and Jim. It had been eerie how quickly the two of them had hit it off. If Leonard had been the romantic sort, he’d say that their friendship was destiny or some shit like that. God knew the two worked together like some well-oiled machine, anticipating the other’s needs and movement almost as though they were one person instead of two separate beings. Jim had been delighted with the chess games and the late nights working together. Leonard knew that with Spock as a first, there was no way that they could actually be working all that much, and that had made something dark inside of him twist at the realization that, knowing Jim, it was pretty damn likely that they weren’t mere “friends” at all.

Leonard was pretty sure that they were fucking. He’d been a little uncomfortable at how his stomach had tightened when _that_ little lightbulb had gone off. It wasn’t like either of them were particularly obvious. Both of them were far too professional. Jim had been as damn handsy as ever, but it was Spock... the slight quirk of his lip or the tiniest bit of softening around his eyes when he looked at Jim that had made the bile rise in Leonard’s throat, pissed for some reason that he couldn’t quite make himself examine too closely.

He’d been appalled at himself.

“I am aware of the Captain’s status. Your own contribution to his current recovery is not insignificant.”

“Oh.”

“In my study of human biology, I have learned that after times of great physical stress, it is most beneficial to fill one’s nutritional needs for optimal efficiency.” Spock took a step inside of Leonard’s office, face his own coolly implacable mask.

It must have been his exhaustion, because the flash his mind produced when Spock  said ‘studying human biology’ had Jim bent over a sweaty, blushing Spock with that cocky grin of his, eyes narrowed with concentration as the Vulcan looked up at him.... Leonard coughed, pressing the heels of his hands on his eyes until he saw starbursts. It had to be the exhaustion. He’d never, never thought of Jim like that before. When they’d made those first tentative strides towards friendship, Leonard had carefully stuffed Jim in the box labeled as “friends” and hadn’t changed course in the four years that they’d known each other. He’d certainly never been this... irked before at thinking of Jim with someone.

“Doctor?”

“What?”  Leonard’s bark was gravely. He was so fucking tired, but even that didn’t excuse his rudeness. His mama would smack him upside the head if she heard him right now. He breathed out, slowly. “Sorry, Spock. My brain isn’t quite running at its best.”

Spock came inside his office, then walked over to the replicator on the wall. Leonard was still trying to bite back the uncomfortable images that had suddenly sprung up in his head. He’d never thought he was the kind of man that envied his friends their happiness. He heard Spock murmur something, and sighed at the familiar sound of the replicator working, then Spock’s boot heels as he walked back towards Leonard’s desk.

“My... mother often ate this meal when she was emotionally compromised. She called it ‘comfort food.’” Spock leaned forward to place it near Leonard’s elbows. Leonard opened his eyes in time to see a quick flash of pale stomach as Spock’s uniform rode up from reaching around Leonard’s own folded body so as to not spill what was on the tray. Leonard had to swallow hard, staring down the small bowl of thick chicken soup, the grilled cheese sandwich, and the thick chocolate brownie that sat on his desk. 

It hadn’t been exactly the best time to realize that he hadn’t been sick with jealousy over _Jim_ , but with Jim with _Spock_. 

He had no idea how he kept from leaping up from his chair or doing blurting something asinine out in a fit of blushing stupidity. Instead he had eaten the food on autopilot, uncomfortably aware of Spock’s proximity as he stood near his desk at his familiar parade rest, clearly having no plans to move until Leonard had finished every goddamn bite. Spock had taken his tray and had paused for a moment, clearly uncomfortable. 

Leonard watched out of the corner of his eye as Spock hesitated, then reached out to touch Leonard’s shoulder in a brief gesture. “Please see that you get the optimal amount of rest, Doctor. Jim will need you when he gains consciousness.”

The doors had shut behind him before Leonard could make himself release the _woosh_ of pent-up breath. He felt utterly disgusted with himself. Spock had not only made it a point to feed him, he had willingly mentioned his mother, attempted some awkward Vulcan version of a comforting gesture, and all Leonard could think about was the smooth, pale flash of stomach and how much he fucking wanted to taste it.

*~*~*~

  


That, of course, was the beginning of the end. Whatever obsessive-type tendencies he’d had before were nothing compared to how he acted now. Leonard began to avoid Jim and Spock during off-duty hours, so ashamed of his own pettiness that it was making him ill. He couldn’t look at Jim without thinking of him and Spock twisted together, fucking. Then he would feel revulsion at his own imagination, sick at his own jealousy as he tried _again_ to stop thinking about it. He drank a little more. His charming personality became a whole lot less charming.  He was snappy and bitingly sarcastic when any of the idiots that worked for him made a mistake. He’d even tried buying Spock little gifts, but had chickened out at the last minute, and instead had had them beamed aboard anonymously. Nothing much. Some seeds from one of the Vulcan colonies. A black tunic, made from fabrics that had cost him a ridiculous amount of money to find given that the planet that the material was made on had been obliterated. Just things that were on second and third thought way too sentimental to give to someone who was fucking your best friend.

But he couldn’t seem to help himself, either.

Leonard hadn’t even realized what he was saying until Chapel’s lips had given an unfamiliar quiver.  He’d snapped out a dismissal, only to see Jim standing there with a carefully blank look on his face.

“Bones? You wanna come with me for a few minutes?”

No, he definitely did _not_. Leonard huffed out a breath, noticing the tear-filled glance of thanks that Christine gave Jim behind Leonard’s back, and felt even more like a fucking heel. Shit. Shitshit _shit._

“Yeah, okay, Jim. I can shuffle some things around.”

“Yeah, that wasn’t exactly a request, Bones. We can use your office.” Seeing the careful, tight smile on Jim’s face and realizing that Jim was giving him his ‘Captain face’ had made Leonard feel lower than the trail left by a Denebian slime devil. Jim turned on his heel and Leonard followed with his anger draining out of him as he rubbed his hand on the back of his neck. 

“Jim, I--”

Jim just held up a hand.

“I wasn’t going to say anything. I figured whatever had crawled up your ass would crawl back out eventually. I ignored it when people started coming to me in confidence, worried about you. I could see that shit for myself. You look like you’ve lost weight. And don’t even get me started on the bags under your eyes. I know what you look like after a hangover, Bones.”

Leonard opened his mouth, defensive, only to shut it when Jim began pacing, unable to keep still.  “I know it’s my fault, Bones. I’m a shitty friend. I just... Spock pointed out to me that I had been spending ‘43% less time in the good doctor’s company’ since the start of our mission and _fuck,_ Bones. I know I screwed up okay? I even tried to apologize, but I guess I fucked that up too, because that’s the night you started _drinking on fucking duty_. Now you’re biting Christine’s head off for dropping a fucking hypo?” Jim stopped mid-pace, looking miserable.

Leonard stared  carefully at the floor.

“Look. I... I don’t expect you to forgive me okay? I know it’s all my fault. For what it’s worth, I honestly didn’t realize that I was being a dick until Spock refused to play chess with me for the last four nights in a row. Shit, you know I’m a moron when fucking _Spock_ is pointing out that I’m a shittastic friend.”

Jim’s lips quirked in a small, tentative smile. Leonard’s throat tightened. He might be a coward, but he couldn’t keep lying. His mama’d raised him better.

“It’s not you.”

Jim looked shocked at the low words. Surprise flared in his eyes before the Captain mask came back on.

“Bullshit.”

Leonard’s hands shook as he walked over to the replicator, ordering a soda. He needed the sugar. He wanted to dump about a fifth of whiskey in it, but knew Jim wasn’t exactly known for his patience. It had been too much to hope that Chapel hadn’t noticed that he’d showed up to work, hungover, miserable, still drunk from the night before because of some half-cocked idea that avoiding the detox hypo would be fitting punishment for his own damn stupidity. It had only been the one time, but it had shamed him so much. He hadn’t been this pathetic since his daddy was sick. He wasn’t mad that she had told Jim. That was her job, and she did her job damn well.

He sighed.

“No bullshit, Jimmy. I’ve been avoiding you. On purpose.”  Leonard sipped his drink, his stomach rolling unpleasantly at the sugary sweetness.

“Wait, what?”

Leonard sighed again. “I don’t begrudge you your friendship, Jim. At first, I thought it was great. You guys seemed to just click. I know that I’m not gonna stand in the way of that.”

“At first?”

Leonard turned, struggling to keep his face blank. “Then I realized that you. That he. You and Spock---”

“Me and... wait, _what_?!”

Leonard didn't notice the note of incredulity that sent Jim's voice screeching  slightly out of his normal range. Shame was like some heavy suit, weighting him down. "Look, Jimmy. I can get over it. Maybe go to a whorehouse or something. Fuck it out of my system." Leonard forced a smile, meeting Jim's shocked, wide gaze for the first time. "It's just been awhile. I won't let this thing affect my job. Uh, anymore than it already --"

"Jesus fuck, Bones, shut up."                                      

Leonard did with a small pop of sound from his mouth.

"Jesus." Jim sounded like he couldn't believe what he had just heard. "That is so fucking _weird_!"

Leonard blinked.

"You know, it was weird enough when Spock told me that he ' desired to learn the particulars of sexual congress from an experienced individual' but _you_ , Bones? That's like... I just never realized you would be into an anonymous fuck, especially one you had to pay for."

Leonard frowned, for a second not sure if he heard Jim right. "You... You're okay with sending Spock to a ... a ..." Several things began to click into place. His alcohol-stupid and sleep-deprived brain came online all at once with an almost physical jolt. Leonard’s eyes widened and he jerked his gaze to Jim’s wide-eyed, and slightly horrified one.

“Uh Bones. You know that I love you man, but uh.. I don’t like the ol’ beans and franks as much as.. uh. What I mean to say is that uh... _love_ in this sense is a purely friendly, nobody’s-dick-in-anyone’s-ass kinda love, man.” He actually pulled on the neck of his collar. For a second, Leonard thought about putting him out of his misery, but given the shit Jim had put him through (even if Jim didn’t know it) the past few months, he figured this was payback. “Um! Not that I have a problem with that. ‘Cuz, you know... lesbians! Lesbians are fucking _awesome_.”  He coughed. “And you know that some of my best friends are...” Jim finally trailed off when he noticed Leonard’s smirking grin, eyes narrowing as he realized that he was the butt of the joke. “Oh, fuck you.”

“You sure? Now, is that ‘fuck me’ in a dick-in-my-ass kind of way?” Leonard watched as Jim turned several different shades of pink before settling on a nice, bright red. “Jesus, kid. Remind me to sign you up for the shipboard sensitivity training.” Leonard smirked and turned to walk out of the room. “Talk to you later, okay?” Sometimes distractions were the best way to go with Jim. Leonard took two steps before Jim’s voice stopped him short.

“Wait! Bones!”

Shit. Sometimes they didn’t work. Damn mule-headed infant.

“So let me get this straight. You’ve been a total tool to everyone on my ship... because you were jealous? Of me and Spock?”

Leonard sighed. Fuck his life. Fuck his stupid, stupid emotions. “Not exactly, Jimmy. And not of you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Jim was actually quiet a second. “Look.” He took a step forward, reaching out to clasp Leonard on the shoulder. “I’m not trying to be a douche here, but you and Spock aren’t exactly best friends, man. I thought you couldn’t stand him.”

Somehow the fact that both of those things were the gospel truth hurt more than anything. “Yeah well... you don’t know everything, do you?”

“No. Of course not. Do you... love him, Bones?”

Leonard’s eyes widened. The automatic answer was on his lips, before he managed to reign himself in. Say what you want to about his marriage, he had been in love with her. At least until everything went to shit. And even then he’d hung on to his love for Joce, even when it was painful. This... whatever it was that he felt for Spock. Interest? Fixation? Whatever it was... he’d get it out of his system soon enough. It wasn’t _love_. Leonard managed to shake his head, not meeting Jim’s gaze.

It couldn’t be.

Jim huffed out a breath before pulling Leonard into a rough hug. “Okay then you grouchy bastard. I’ll give you the same advice that I gave Spock. We have shore leave in a week. There’s something on Risa for everyone. Go and fuck it out of your system! I mean, what could go wrong, right?”

Leonard slung his arm around Jim’s shoulders, forcing a grin. They walked to the mess, ate a meal, and Jim walked him to his cabin, where Leonard earned another slap on the back before he crawled into his bunk, completely and utterly fucking exhausted. Leonard spent four hours staring up at his ceiling, unable to sleep.

*~*~*~*~*

Even that hadn’t been a clue. 

Two days after he and Jim’s heart-to-heart, Leonard still couldn’t explain why he wanted Spock so much. He’d been pretty even-handed when it came to sex. Oh sure, Starfleet still liked to pigeon-hole people by their sexuality, even as much as they claimed to embrace IDIC. That had always given Leonard a bit of a laugh. Starfleet was about as good at it as the damn Vulcans.

He didn’t want people because of what some ancient psycho-babble bullshit had predicted. He wanted who he wanted, and that was pretty much that. Still. When he allowed himself to think... to really _think_ about Spock, he was like some damn kid. His dick was hard and he was cursing his own pathetic control. Leonard had managed to join both Jim and Spock for a meal. He had felt hyper-aware of everything Spock did. The precise way he chewed his food. The almost stilted--even for a Vulcan!--conversation.  The curve of his goddamn beautiful ear, his long, graceful fingers....

Leonard swore under his breath, adjusting himself surreptitiously under the desk. This was ridiculous.

“Doctor McCoy?”

Leonard jumped in his seat, the PADD at his elbow clattering to the floor. He bent to grab for it, knocking his head against the corner of his desk. He was lucky that it didn’t knock over the mug of tea that he had brewed.

“Ouch! Mother _fucker_!”

When he managed to slam the damn PADD onto his desk, and blink away the tears of pain, Spock was standing there with a very carefully blank look on his face, at his customary parade rest.

“Doctor, if you are done voicing your own colorful metaphors, I require your assistance on a medical issue.”

Leonard ignored the throbbing pain in his head and stood, tugging on his uniform. “Yeah. Of course, Spock. Sorry about that.” He heard the fake jocularity in his voice and wanted to wince. His voice seemed too loud in the small office, like he was trying too hard.

“It is of no matter.” Spock raised an eyebrow.

“Come on in then.” Leonard had gotten into the habit of examining Spock in his office to spare Spock the indignity of a public examination. It had started after the events of the _Narada._ Spock had acknowledged Leonard’s insistence on allowing the Vulcan refugees their own section of the dreadfully crowded sickbay with a simple tilt of his eyebrow. Neither one of them had spoken about it. Leonard hadn’t seen the need to state to state the obvious, and Spock would rather lead an Orion slave dance than admit that he and the other Vulcans he’d saved would prefer privacy to the well-meaning, sympathetic stares of the other crew members.  It had been pretty much cemented when he’d helped Spock with the sehlat (its stay on the Enterprise had been brief, and Leonard had treated two other bites from other crew members before Spock had found it a home on New Vulcan.) “So what’s up, Spock?”

Leonard stared intensely at his PADD, nervous that somehow Spock would be able to read his attraction and almost missed Spock’s movement. On anyone else he would have called it a nervous twitch. Spock’s hands opened slightly, the left resting on his thigh before he moved his hands back to behind his back. 

“I find myself ... reluctant to speak of my needs.”

“You can tell me anything, Spock. You know that. Even if I wanted to tell someone...”

“You misunderstand, Doctor McCoy. My reluctance stems not from any doubt on your professionalism. Indeed, your dedication to your position as Chief Medical Officer is what brings me to seek your assistance.”

“Oh. Okay, then.” Leonard looked up, frowning slightly. He was used to his patients hemming and hawing over some embarrassing disease or pustule on their ass or genitalia. The fact that Spock wasn’t just spitting out whatever it was that he needed made Leonard echo Spock’s raised eyebrow. “Whenever you’re ready.” Maybe it would be easier for him if Leonard wasn’t staring directly at him. He set down the PADD and took a drink of his tea.

“I have decided that I wish to, to use a human colloquialism, lose my virginity.”

Leonard choked. His fingers tightened on the handle of the mug so tightly that he heard the material creak. Fury was so bright that he had to bite his own tongue to keep the words behind his teeth. Jealousy made his stomach lurch unpleasantly. The mental image of Spock with some nameless, faceless fuck made him sick. Leonard set the mug of tea down very carefully, forcing his own emotions back down. He _would_ do this, goddamnit. He could be a fucking professional.

“Well, congrafuckinglations, Spock.”

“Is something amiss?” Spock tilted his head slightly to the left, as though Leonard had done something particularly curious.

Leonard forced himself to breathe, turning and facing Spock with his face as blank as he could make it. “Of course not. What do you need me for? Lube? Condoms? Updated STI vaccinations?” Spock gave that weird sort of not-twitch again. The very tips of his ears flushed, and Leonard inwardly cursed at himself.  He was being a dick. 

“My telepathy will make an act such as sexual congress even more intimate. While that would be an optimal situation were I seeking such... contact with someone who was an intended _telsu_ , I am concerned that my shields will not be at their optimal strength during the act. I find that I do not wish to limit myself, Doctor McCoy. The Captain has extolled the virtues of sexual congress with an anonymous partner. From a purely scientific standpoint, I feel that this would best suit my needs.”

Leonard was so silent that he could hear each, individual breath as Spock breathed in and out after his speech.  He swallowed hard, biting the inside of his cheek again before he spoke.

“So, you want.. what. Some kind of telepathic neural blocker?”

“Essentially, yes. I am quite curious. I find that I wish... to experience everything, Doctor McCoy. But I do not wish to... overwhelm my partner. To be clear, the sexual congress is one form of intimacy that I am willing to share with a virtual stranger.  Mental intimacy, however,  I will only share with a bonded mate. A neural blocker will render my telepathy out of commission. Several hours should be sufficient.”

“I’ll have to do some calculations. See what I can come up with. It shouldn’t be too difficult. We have a few days before you beam down. I’ll see what I can come up with and let you know.” Leonard almost sounded normal, despite the way he wanted to grind his teeth together.

Spock nodded once, did a textbook-perfect about face and walked out of Leonard’s office without a word, his body almost painfully rigid as though he had no desire to continue the conversation.

Leonard whirled, scooping up the tea and holding it with both trembling hands.  God. _God_ , this was... Spock wanted to fuck someone. Great. Billions of beings did it every day. It wasn’t a big deal. Spock wanted to fuck someone and keep it neat- no accidental telepathy. Fine. Again, not a big deal. 

Only it was. It fucking _was_ a big deal. Sure, Risa was known for providing pleasure to countless types of beings, from a number of different planets. Leonard had had enough psychoanalysis to understand why Spock wanted to limit himself. Suppression of his Vulcan side. Indulging his humanity. Whatever. But without his telepathy, he wouldn’t be able to read the intentions of whatever whore that was ...providing the hole. Whichever whore he was fucking. He could be... hurt. Spock might be too uncomfortable to be clear about his limits. Fuck, he might not even know what his limits _were_. The sex could be too rough. Or it could be fucked up or perverted or...

With a low, frustrated hiss, Leonard’s tea landed against the bulkhead with a sharp crash of ceramic, the dark stain bleeding down the wall in slow drips.

*~*~*~*~*

And fuck it all if it hadn’t been ridiculously simple.

A slight, offhanded comment to Jim about a particular house that Leonard had heard would be perfect for the right price. Leonard knew that Jim would be the cherry on the sundae. Spock trusted Jim implicitly. He had a brief second of guilt for using Jim like that- but it wasn’t like Jim hadn’t used him in the past. Leonard couldn’t think of how many goddamn times he’d covered for Jim when girlfriend #3 or #5 or whatever commed looking for him.

Several hundred thousand credits to ensure that the whore Spock had paid for had the night off, with Leonard in his place with none the wiser. Spock’s taste had been impeccable. Classy, for a whorehouse. Known for keeping the utmost in secrecy. Known throughout the galaxy as catering to the whims of their customers.

Some oils to mask his own scent, a hypo of Fl’garria’an flu vaccine. Not contagious, but it fucked up the vocal cords so that Leonard didn’t sound like himself. If he was careful to keep his voice low, Spock would never know.

Simple instructions for Spock to bathe, to put on the blindfold and to wait for him on the bed.

Leonard had a moment, a brief almost incapacitating moment, of trepidation when he saw Spock stretched out on the ridiculously large bed, pale and lean in the low light. The blindfold had been securely fastened. One pale green corner of the sheet kept Spock from being completely naked.

Was this really right? Sure, Spock didn’t pick Leonard. He doubted that he would ever show up on Spock’s radar. But, the Vulcan did pay for sex with a stranger. Leonard could be that stranger, yet still keep Spock safe. If Spock thought that the only way that he would be able to enjoy sex was for him to circumvent the part of him that made him Vulcan, then so be it. He could trust Leonard not to hurt him. 

And if Spock never knew it was Leonard that he had fucked, all to the better. Leonard was certain that he would get over this stupid... crush. Fixation. Whatever the fuck was going on in his head if he could just...

Leonard sucked in a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and walked inside the opulent room.  The large bed was the centerpiece of the main area. There was an en-suite to the left, and a faint humidity that hinted that Spock had bathed. Leonard doubted that Spock would care, but the room was very tastefully decorated in muted greens and browns. There were several mirrors placed around the bed, as well as a small shelf with every single sexual aide that Leonard could imagine (and quite frankly some that he had no idea what the fuck they were for) using organized by lube down to plugs, to various whips and restraints.

He could see Spock stiffen slightly as he padded on bare feet towards the bed.

“Good evening, sir,” Leonard croaked. His voice was several octaves lower than his normal pitch. He didn’t quite whisper, but the ;Flagarria’an flu vaccine kept him from giving up the whole charade. He could already feel his cock fill out at just the sight of Spock splayed across the cushions and was glad for the tight underwear that kept his dick pressed close to his body. 

“You will find that I have completed a list of acceptable sexual acts that I wish to experiment with for an optimal pleasurable gratification and sent it along with your payment.”

Leonard blinked, nonplussed.

“Ah. How very organized.”

“Indeed. Proceed.”

Leonard had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. “Hmm. Well, I can see that you’re pretty good at all that organization. But you gotta trust that I am extremely creative, sir. How about this. You let me do what I want. You paid for a professional and I am very good at this.You tell me to stop if you don’t like it. Then we both get what we want.”

There was a moment of silence. It almost seemed to drag on too long, before Spock relaxed just slightly into the mattress. “This is acceptable.”

And just like that, Leonard felt a lot less guilty about his presence there. It was just as he had feared. Spock wasn’t just giving up control, he was tossing it out of the window. Still, that didn’t stop him from sliding his hand from Spock’s ankle, up his long leg, to the lightly furred thigh. Leonard bent over Spock’s almost too-still form, biting his lip. Spock’s skin felt slightly warmer than what he had expected. He’d never been able to touch Spock’s skin before without gloves and the freedom, the feel of each hair as it slid against his palm, of the dips and tightness of Spock’s musculature as Leonard stroked his hand up Spock’s body, his torso and chest, down his arm and to his hand made his heart beat ridiculously quickly. 

Leonard licked his lips and tangled their fingers together for a moment. There was always the chance that the neural blocker had not worked as Leonard had anticipated. He did make mistakes, and Vulcan telepathy wasn’t exactly well-documented. Spock hissed, and jerked his hand away with a small, low sound that went directly to Leonard’s cock. 

“Like that... hmm?”

“Cease talking.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I require your silence.” Leonard could see the stubborn jut of Spock’s jaw. He almost shrugged. No skin off his ass. It might be a little off, but it did make it easier on Leonard. Besides, he couldn’t imagine Spock being vocal during sex. Leonard bent down and kissed him, determined to nip that stubborn jaw back into some sort of submission.

“ _Kroikah_!”  The sound Spock made made Leonard freeze. Spock’s hand snapped out, finding Leonard’s wrist with uncanny precision. Leonard felt the faint stirring of the air currents on his lips from where Spock spoke. “Do not touch my hands excessively. Additionally, kissing is unnecessary.”

Spock released his wrist with an almost violent movement. “I was informed that the terms of our contract stipulated that the price of the transaction ensured that you would perform the specificated acts of sexual acts. If you wish, I will reiterate the pertinent information for your edification.”

Leonard’s lips twitched. Prickly hobgoblin. That was classic passive aggressive bitchy; a textbook Spock response to something he was pissed off about... yet didn’t want to show that he had succumbed to a paltry human emotion.

“Not necessary. You came here for a new experience, correct?”

“Affirmative.” Spock’s breath stuttered slightly when Leonard’s fingers brushed slightly against his bangs, ghosting over Spock’s winged eyebrows, barely visible with the large, black blindfold that had been tied around his head.

“The thing about sex is that it’s a lot more fun if you don’t plan it out in advance. How about this. I’ll do something- don’t worry. I won’t kiss and I won’t talk if that’s what you want, but if you don’t like something you tell me.” Leonard felt his cock twitch and was very thankful that his voice didn’t sound like his own.

Spock’s head tilted. “This is acceptable.” Before Leonard could do anything else, Spock flipped over, pushing himself up to his knees.

Leonard just stared at that long expanse of skin, at Spock’s trim-looking ass, and at what seemed like miles and miles of slightly olive-tinged skin with his mouth open. Clearly, Spock had his own ideas about what he was doing here. He licked his lips, took a deep breath and began.

Spock might sound bitchy, and he might seem confident, but it was clear that he wasn’t completely comfortable with the vulnerable position. Leonard reached out and trailed his hand down Spock’s spine, nails trailing lightly over each bump. He could see Spock’s skin take the small marks, a darker green until they faded back to his normal color. Spock shivered a little, moving a little on the bed so that his shoulders were closer to the mattress, pushing his ass up in the air.

Well, that was clear enough.

Leonard bent a little closer, rubbing all the skin he could reach: Spock’s back, down over his ribs, the front of his pelvis and back around over the globes of his ass, down the back of the thighs, and around to the front. Leonard avoided Spock’s dick and balls, and the crease of his ass, but kept touching him, occasionally rubbing his body against him just for the slightly uneven huff of breath Spock gave. Leonard licked his lips again and leaned forward, breathing over the bottommost bump on Spock’s spine, holding that position until his lips almost tingled with want. His breath was hot but he didn’t kiss him, just breathed on him, until Spock moved almost imperceptibly spreading his legs just the slightest bit wider.

Leonard smirked, rubbing his jaw on the tender skin at Spock’s tailbone. He had shaved a couple hours ago, and the difference between the smoothness of Spock’s skin  and his beard had to be on just this side of painful. Leonard had the flash of what Spock’s thighs would look like, covered in beard burn and had to press the heel of his hand to his cock, readjusting himself. He gave Spock plenty of time to move away, slowly brushing his cheek down the side of his left buttcheek, turning so his breath was heavy on the taut skin. He brushed his lips to the curve and Spock froze for a moment. Leonard waited, making sure Spock didn’t say anything, and when he was silent, slowly pulled apart the cheeks of Spock’s ass and breathed in the musky scent of him. He was actually dizzy for a moment, imagining all of the things he could do to Spock, all of the things that he could introduce him to. He sighed, and the feel of his breath against his hot skin caused Spock to twitch a little.

Leonard breathed deeply and began licking at him, slowly introducing Spock to the feeling of his tongue. Spock made a muffled sound when Leonard flicked the tip of his tongue over the spiral of deeply green-tinted tightly furled skin and Leonard immediately decided that whatever else happened tonight, he was going to make sure Spock made many, many more noises just like that.

He bit at the curve of Spock’s ass, pulling off but keeping him spread open, waiting again for Spock to tell him something. He wanted to ask him, to talk and speak all he filthy things that were just begging to come out of his mouth, but refrained. Spock didn’t want him to talk...

...and all at once Leonard realized why. The thought caused a deep feeling of jealousy to cause his fingers to tighten on Spock’s ass, pulling him just slightly more open. He used his thumbs on Spock’s hole, pushing slightly, tracing the small spot over and over, pressing just slightly inside. He bent and licked at him again, running his tongue up and down. Spock didn’t want him to talk, because he was obviously picturing someone else fucking him. Someone _else_ touching him like this.

Leonard stabbed his tongue inside of him, holding it there for a second before wiggling it. Spock’s arms snapped taut, his hands giving him purchase against he mattress so that he could push his ass back onto Leonard’s mouth. Leonard pushed again slightly with his chin, knowing that his bristle would sting and Spock trembled. Leonard’s mouth wandered down to Spock’s balls, lipping at one than the other and pulling just the slightest bit at the skin before releasing it to lick back up.

“Hold yourself,” he whispered.

Spock seemed to understand immediately, moving so that he was holding his face from the covers with his shoulders. He slid his hands over Leonard’s for just a moment, their fingers tangling together as Spock took over, holding his cheeks apart for Leonard’s mouth. He didn’t waste any time, licking and making Spock as wet as he could with flicking, teasing swirls of his tongue, only occasionally sliding it inside of Spock as the tight muscle relaxed in increments. 

He still had to move away from Spock to get the lube and it wasn’t all that goddamn easy to leave him even for that long. Leonard was pretty sure that he would have the image burned into his retinas for the rest of his natural life: Spock’s fingers slightly whitened with pressure as he held himself open, Leonard’s spit leaving his skin shiny in the faint light of the room. He could see Spock’s dick, flushed a dark green with blood as it swayed slightly when Spock shifted and his mouth went dry with so much fucking _want_ that he had to grip his own prick through his underwear like a damn teenager so that he wouldn’t come. 

“Jesus, _Spock_.”

Spock moved inhumanly fast. In a flash he was up on his knees, ripping off the blindfold. Leonard actually took a step backwards when he realized what he had said. _Shit. Shit fucking_ fucking _shit shit_ shit!  Spock appeared completely calm, his face blank as he raised one eyebrow, smoothly moving off the bed and standing, his hand twitching as though he wanted to reach out for Leonard. 

“I....”  But Leonard didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what he _could_ say. He forced a smile. It felt horrible, like he was stretching skin that couldn’t stretch anymore. He watched as something in Spock’s eyes shifted. Darkened.

It was too much. The last bit of his courage broke. Leonard whirled and ran for the door.

And that was the final thing.

In the corridor- Jim must have really been talking up the damn place- was one of the lieutenants from security. He was just leaving, his arm wrapped around a half-naked, giggling woman. The taller man turned in surprise at the way Leonard jerked open the door, his gaze flicking from Leonard’s dick, still hard and obscenely stretching his briefs to Spock standing naked just inside of the room.

 It only took a moment. A second for everything in Leonard’s heart to shatter. A second for him to remember, to know what the Lieutenant was going to say before he opened his damnfool mouth.

“Hey, Doc!” His voice was slurred, rough with a lot of alcohol consumed in a small amount of time; a man who was enjoying the hell out of his shore leave. “Looks like you won the bet after all. Guess that stick _does_ come out of his ass!”

  


*~*~*~*~*~

Leonard didn’t know how he made it to his cabin. He didn’t know how Jim had found out.  Leonard stumbled when he remembered Jim’s words. ‘ _I’m so fucking pissed off at you right now that I can’t even stand to look at you. But the way you used_ me _to do it? That... that was just fucked up, B-bones.’_  Yeah. No doubt that Jim knew, and had been just about ready to punch him for it. Maybe Spock had told him. Maybe the madam had when Leonard had hightailed it out of there like a cat  with its tail on fire.   It was a blank trip back to his deck; something done by rote so many times that the doors were sliding shut behind him.  Leonard couldn’t stop fucking _remembering._   Everything kept playing out behind his eyes like a goddamn tragic holovid. In the time that Spock had dressed and walked calmly from the room, his silence so brittle and eerie that Leonard couldn’t bring himself to break it. He had found a bar, and then a bottle, but hadn’t felt comfortable there and had beamed back to the ship. It had just been the worst sort of timing that Spock had beamed aboard right after him. He hadn’t been prepared. Between Jim’s disgust and the realization of just what he had actually done to Spock... no. No what he did to Spock was fucking amazing. Spock knowing that it was _Leonard_ who did it, though... Leonard had just wanted to escape back to his cabin. Somehow it was fitting that he was still hungover. the pounding behind his goddamn eyeballs was penance. He stripped and stood in the ‘fresher until his skin was pruny, staring blankly at the tile as though it would somehow give him the answers he needed.

When he got out of the shower it was somehow not a surprise that Jim was pacing in his room, the fury he had kept barely under wraps from before almost skating across his skin.  This was the Jim that appeared when someone had hurt him, despite all his walls. The Jim that would defend his crew. The Jim that would defend _him_ when Leonard’s mouth had gotten them into trouble as cadets.

Jim ignored him while he slipped on a pair of sweats. Exhausted, Leonard sat on his bed, hunched over with his elbows on his knees.

“Go ahead, Jim.” His croak was just as tired as his body.

Jim snorted. “Spock won’t let me put a mark in your file. He says that it is unnecessary. Funny how fucking sexual misconduct against a commanding officer all of the sudden is _unneccessary_.” There was a note in Jim’s voice that Leonard had never heard before. “You know, I don’t even get it, Bones. Why? Why would you of all people be so fucking dishonest? I mean, I could almost see this as you just handling your shit badly. You have _no idea_. No. Fucking. _idea,_ Bones. No idea what you’ve done to him.” 

Jim’s forced laugh made something break inside of him. The way he wouldn’t look over at the bed, made Leonard’s guilt almost visceral.

“I--”

“Oh _hell_ no. _You_ will _shut the fuck up._ ” Leonard shut up, forcing himself to raise his own gaze, keeping it on Jim. He watched as Jim pushed his hands through his hair, gnawing on his lip. “Fucking Christ. I can’t decide what to be more pissed off about.  Do you have any idea how closely you were flirting with fucking _consent,_ Bones?”

Leonard’s eyes widened. He felt light-headed as Jim’s words hit him like a punch to the kidneys. The alcohol that was still floating around in his stomach swirled unpleasantly and Leonard stumbled as he lurched to his feet, tripping twice and barking his shin against the bedframe as he fell into the head. He made it to the toilet just barely as he vomited up everything that was in his stomach. He was there for awhile, until the dry heaves stopped, hawking bile and spit into the bowl. Consent? Had he really? Had he _really_ done something so reprehensible? Leonard rested his forehead against the cool surface, feeling his eyeballs throb in his head. He heard Jim’s step and felt the cool cloth land on his head.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you did. And I only think that because Spock was adamant. Isn’t that a kick in the head? You went to all that trouble, when Spock would have done anything for you to even acknowledge him. Shit, even _talking_ to him would have done fucking wonders, you stupid, stubborn fucker.” Jim watched from the doorway as Leonard pulled himself to his feet, the headache hurting so much that his _teeth_ throbbed. Leonard heard the words that Jim was saying, but they didn’t seem to make any sense.

Jim’s voice hardened again. “What I don’t get is why you would do that for a bet. It seems a little too high school for me, man. Spock will say that he doesn't feel anything, but you absolutely _humiliated_ him, Bones. You have to know how private he is. That’s the shit that I ... I mean, do I even know you? What possibly could have been in your head that justified that? Did Spock do some shit to you that I don’t know about?” The cadence of Jim’s voice sped up until the confusion and hurt bled through.

Leonard shook his head. Jim’s laugh was disgusted. “That’s it? Just a shake of your head?” Fuck. _Fuck,_ you make me so sick that I can’t even...” Jim trailed off, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “Whatever. You completely miserable jackass. No wonder you’ve been alone for so long. I think you _like_ being so completely fucked up.”

Overwhelmed, Leonard couldn’t even bring himself to say anything in his own defense, if there even was anything that he could say. Numb, he watched as Jim sucked his teeth and walked out of Leonard’s room without another word. It was several minutes before he moved from the bathroom, brushing his teeth and cleaning up on autopilot.

Jim was right about one thing. Leonard did hate himself. His guilt and disgust at his own stupid, _stupid_ actions kept him awake late into the shift rotation. It was several hours before he succumbed to sleep, unable to stop remembering the heartbreak in Spock’s expressive eyes.

*~*~*~*~*~

Gossip on a ship like this was as sure a bet as Jim’s ego.  Leonard and Spock had been sleeping together for months and Spock caught him cheating. Leonard had decided to go back to his wife. Spock was being called back to the colony. Leonard had decided to transfer.

Well, the last one wasn’t a rumor.

It was completely cowardly. Leonard was ashamed of himself every time he even thought of it, but think of it he did. Constantly.  And the worst part was that he knew he deserved it. Every fucking second of the pain that he was feeling was deserved. The first week back on duty had even Chekov looking at him like he’d killed his favorite puppy. Uhura had been so completely cold that Leonard had actually been nervous  during the entire, utterly silent lift ride they had shared when Leonard had been too slow to avoid being trapped with her.

Leonard didn’t bother eating in the mess. Amazingly, the only person that seemed willing to talk to him was Christine. She treated him exactly like she had before and even _that_ had made Leonard feel sick with guilt. Like he was using her to seem normal. They had shared one meal together before Leonard had abandoned even that.  Spock had come in the mess and the silence that heralded his arrival had been fucking painful. Spock’s gaze had travelled over Christine’s tightly coiled blond hair before meeting Leonard’s eyes briefly. It was several seconds before Leonard could force himself to break eye contact to stare back down at his table. Leonard had been shocked at how hungry he was for even a glimpse of Spock’s lean frame. He’d thought that Spock was going to break then. There had been a sharp bite of something in his dark gaze as his eyes had passed over Christine to him, but Leonard had been too ashamed, too disgusted with himself to try to figure it out. When Leonard noticed how the crew had started to give Christine the pariah treatment because of her personal association with him, he resolved to keep his meals to his cabin.

The idea had come to him while he had been staring blankly out into the busy Sickbay, idly observing that most of the crew avoided him if they had any choice in the matter. He couldn’t fucking do his job like this.  It would be better for him if he just finished out his tour somewhere else. On some other ship. With some other crew.

In the end, he’d been too cowardly to even talk to Jim about it. He’d sent him his request on his PADD and the response had been typical Jim:

_Bones you can take this transfer request and shove it up your ass. I tell you what. If you really want off this ship then you have to get Spock to approve it. And fair warning, dumbass. I talked to him. He won’t accept any of this pussified PADD shit. You’ll have to talk to him in person. If he approves it, then I will._

Figures. Leonard had almost caught himself smiling at the message, before the reality that he was being forced to talk to Spock, hit him along with the shame that he had to be _forced_ to talk to _Spock._

In fact he’d been worrying about it so much that when Christine popped into his office with some forms that he needed to sign, he was pathetically glad for the company. 

“You know that you can’t hide out in here for forever, right?”

Leonard rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I can’t seem to get rid of your ass either.”

“Ha. Ha. Ha. If your grouchy man angst bear thing didn’t scare me off, then what makes you think that I’m gonna be fazed that you’re somehow able to function with your head so far up your ass?”

Leonard snorted and signed off on the requisitions. “You know that you could have just sent these to me.” His voice was a lot more subdued than he had meant it. He looked at her, all at once pathetically grateful for her loyalty.

She smiled up at him with a little quirk of her lips. “Well. Let’s just say that of all the people on this ship, I’m pretty sure that I understand completely what you’re going through. I know what it’s like to love someone that you can’t have.” She laughed a little, patting his bristly cheek. “And god knows I’ve done some stupid shit to try to get their attention.”

Of course that’s when the doors _whooshed_ open. Spock walked in Leonard’s office, only to stop short, turn abruptly on his heel and leave

Leonard watched as Christine froze, pulling back from him so quickly that her elbow hit the PADD, sending the stylus scraping against the smooth surface. He was struck by so many different memories that he flinched away from Christine, tense and guilty.  In his mind, he could clearly see Spock calmly staring at him while Leonard stitched up his finger after the sehlat debacle, the almost awkward way he had stood behind him while Leonard had stared stupidly down at the  replicated brownie on his tray.  How he looked spread out on the bed. How he tasted.

The look on Spock’s face when he beamed back aboard and saw Leonard there in the transporter room, reeking of alcohol and struck stupid by Spock’s sudden appearance.

“Ah. Well, I’ll just finish this up. I think Ensign Clarke needed to have those boils lanced anyway. You uh. You should go after him, Doctor McCoy.”

Leonard blinked as Christine hustled out of there. He forced himself to finish his shift, attempting to concentrate on his work. It was no use. He could have been giving people Dranali herpes instead of vitamins for all he knew.  It was time to do what he should have done a week ago.

He needed to go apologize to Spock.

*~*~*~*~*~

Sometimes, Leonard just fucking missed goddamn doors. Knocking would give him time to prepare himself. The comm whistle that announced his arrival just wasn’t the same. His mama would say that Leonard was stalling as he stood here in front of Spock’s door, and his mama would be right.

“Enter.”

Leonard’s heart jumped up into his throat. He was uncomfortably aware that his hands were sweating, and rubbed them nervously on his trousers before squaring his shoulders and walking through into Spock’s cabin. It was weird. He’d been to Jim’s a million times before. But he’d never before crossed over to this side of the corridor to Spock’s cabin.

Spock was seated at his desk, with his back to the door. 

Leonard stood there awkwardly when the doors _wooshed_ shut behind him. Spock continued to work, ignoring him completely. 

“Er... do you want me to come back later?”

“Negative.”

Leonard blew out a breath. Shit. _Shit_ , he really was a coward. What the fuck was wrong with him? Did he really think that he deserved for Spock to make this _easy_?

“Okay then. Look, I’ll make this short. I... I know I should have come talked to you sooner, Spock.”

“Upon further reflection, I believe that it would be wise for you to leave, Doctor McCoy. I find that my control is not ...”

“No! I mean, No. I can’t do that. I gotta say this.  I... god, Spock. I don’t know where to begin!”

“It is not difficult. You, Ensign Hanlon, and several other members of this crew sought to provoke an emotional response by placing a wager on whether or not you could, remove a small piece of a lithocarpus abori  from my gluteus maximus. Then, for reasons that escape me, you decided that you would be the individual to...”

“No. Wait a damn minute, Spock.” Leonard took two steps forward, stopping just behind Spock’s chair. “I did _not_ make a bet that I would... that... that I would have sex with you. You have to believe me. I know what I did was shitty, but I would never... I mean... You’re so... I would _never._..!” Spock turned to face him. Their eyes met for the first time in seven days. Leonard had been expecting Spock to be his normal Vulcany self, but still seeing a face that was completely and utterly without emotion was like a punch to the gut. Leonard took a deep, shaky breath and forced himself to just _talk_.  “Spock. I would never do anything like that.  I admit I was pretty pissed off when we started this mission. What you did to Jim by marooning him on that ice cube... what I _let you_ do to Jim here on our own damn bridge... I just wasn’t in a good place. Pissed off at you and pissed off at myself. It’s just easier to be mad at you.” Leonard couldn’t bear looking  into Spock’s eyes any longer. “Now, I can’t say why those other two brought that up. We were all complaining, and drinking, and you know how Humans can be damn fools. Add in the fact we were drinking like fishes and... no. I know that’s not an excuse.” Leonard sighed.  Spock stood and Leonard held up his hand to forestall Spock’s response. The words weren’t easy, but  he knew that they were long overdue. “When Jim told me that you were going to go to some hooker for ... for a fuck, I couldn’t stop thinking that you were going to be hurt. Somehow I got it in my head that if I just made sure it was me that you were fucking, then at least I could give you a good time.”

Spock blinked. His eyebrow twitched as though he wasn’t quire sure if he wanted to raise it or not.

Leonard sighed again, rubbing the back of his neck. “No.. that’s not quite true either. And this is why I think Jim wanted me to come and talk to you. I think that I need to transfer off the Enterprise. What I did to you.... it was... I’m so fucking _sorry_ , Spock. I was so goddamn jealous that I couldn’t stand the thought of you with some gigolo. It was bad enough when I thought you and Jim were together. I... I don’t have any excuse for my behavior. I’ve never let personal shit get in the way of my job before. And that’s why. Why I think I should just go.”

Spock looked like a statue. Leonard felt sweaty and over-heated and his heart was like to jump out of his damn chest. 

“I think you should go ahead and put that Transfer through, Spock. I still can’t for the life of me figure out why you didn’t put a mark on my record. Jim is right. What I did was … god. It was so fucked up and just because I didn’t see it as fucked up at the time doesn’t excuse it.” Leonard felt his shame like some type of shroud, cloaking him so completely that he didn’t know if he’d be able to move through it. When Spock just stood there, Leonard forced himself to straighten up to attention, despite the sweat dripping down the back of his neck, despite the way his stomach was lodged in his goddamn throat. Just when he was about to break, Spock spoke.

“Your logic is faulty.”

Leonard flinched. It damn near killed him to keep his mouth shut. All at once it made a lot more sense why personnel weren’t supposed to blur the lines between friendship and command crew. Jim practically encouraged a low-key discipline, although he did command a lot of respect from his crew. He’d laughed it off, telling Leonard, “Hey, Bones. We were friends first. We can be friends until they tell us we can’t, right man?” And they had. But Spock?  He would no more encourage a crewmember to act informally than he would shoot someone in cold blood. Leonard had adopted Jim’s informal habits without thinking about how insensitive they were to Spock’s perspective. Leonard could feel all the blood in his face drain away as he realized how many ways he’d insulted Spock without even thinking about it. Shame warred with hopelessness and disgust at himself.

“You have given me much on which to ruminate. I require meditation and reflection. You are dismissed.”

His vision actually greyed out for a second as he reeled, struggling not to show his emotions. Leonard swallowed hard, turned on his heel and left.

The walk to his quarters seemed longer than it had ever been before. Leonard could hear his own words echoing in his head. And while it did feel better to get that off of his chest, the fact that as ridiculous as it was, he _had_ held on to some small hope of Spock somehow... forgiving him. _Now there was no point. No chance. He didn’t deserve a chance. He didn’t deserve_ anything. _He’d managed to fuck up everything: him and Jim, him and the respect of this crew .... specially whatever he might have had with Spock-- even if just his friendship. His respect._

He swallowed again, refusing to acknowledge the way his eyes burned. He undressed, used the sonics, and threw on some sleep pants completely on autopilot. He’d had a moment of that utterly stupid spark of hope when he’d seen that he had two messages, blinking on his PADD, but when he saw that neither were marked urgent, and neither were from Spock he gave up, ordered off the lights and lay on his bunk, staring up at the dark ceiling telling himself that it was fucking infantile to cry even as the tears trickled down his cheeks.

*~*~*~*~

When his doors slid open, Leonard thought for a split-second that he was dreaming. There was no way that Spock was standing in his quarters, as calmly as if he were cataloguing planetary cartography.

“I have one query, if I may, Doctor McCoy.”

Leonard jumped out of bed, all at once feeling at a disadvantage. He was rumpled from finally falling into a dead sleep, and Spock looked fresh as a goddamn daisy. “Yes. Of course, Spock.”

Spock’s eyebrow winged up in that way that Leonard no longer denied made his damn knees weak. “If what you say is indeed the truth… and you harbor some… regard for myself, then kindly explain your discourse with Christine Chapel.”

Leonard blinked. “Lights, Sixty percent.” His brow furrowed. He caught himself raising his hand to knuckle some of the sleep out of his eyes, before stopping, resolving not to twitch like a damn cadet called out for demerits in front of a superior officer. “Christine? She’s my head nurse.”

“Indeed. Continue.”

Leonard was honestly confused. He frowned as he thought. “You mean when I called her a moron? I apologized. She forgave me after I worked her shifts. Of course, she made sure I had to clean out my own bedpans for a few weeks, but that was…”

“No. Your romantic relationship. Starfleet Regulation 534.09b states that any romantic or sexual affiliation between an officer and their direct subordinate is prohibited and cause for immediate—“

“Whoa! Wait. My _What_?” The irony of his deja vu was not lost on him.

Spock’s lips tightened slightly. His face was perfectly blank in the way Leonard was starting to suspect was not really indicative of Vulcan calm and much more like a Vulcan about to lose his shit.

“Spock- she’s an amazing nurse. She’ll be a fucking fantastic doctor one day.” Spock actually took a step forward, and for a second Leonard’s voice faltered as he compensated by taking a step back.  For just a moment, he thought he saw _something_ in Spock’s gaze, but by the time he jerked his eyes up, Spock’s face had returned to its customary blankness.  “After you and I… after we… well. After, she was a very good friend to me when I needed one. Hell, I don’t deserve her.” Leonard’s heart-rate skyrocketed when he saw that same flash of darkness in Spock’s brown eyes. Leonard thought he had spent a fair amount of time ‘Spock-watching,’ as it were. He thought he knew the tiny little nuances of what emotion Spock allowed himself to show, what they meant. There wasn’t much, of course, but it was there if you knew what to look for. Leonard liked to think that he did. But this-- was downright menacing. Leonard backed up another step before he even thought of it, blinking a little wildly when Spock stepped forward even more, forcing him to look up just slightly to continue to hold Spock’s gaze. When Leonard spoke, it was much less forthright than he would have preferred. Almost breathy.

“That is one _independent_ woman.” Even when Leonard had humiliated him, Spock hadn’t acted like this. Leonard realized that he was doing the equivalent of poking the scary Vulcan with a sharp stick, but by this point figured it was either piss him off and hope Spock stopped in time, before actually killing him, or start babbling in fear. “Beautiful too.” Spock made a small sound in the back of his throat. He reached out and touched the line of Leonard’s jaw, the pads of his fingers just barely sliding against the five-o’clock bristle from his time spent sleeping.

“Spock. I don’t have a romantic, _anything_ with Chapel. She’s much too good for the likes of me. I’d never sleep with her. Or try to romance her for Christ’s sake. She’s my colleague, and she’s kind enough to call me her fr—“

Maybe he should have seen it coming. Spock had been practically vibrating like a damn tuning fork, barely able to contain his energy. Spock simply tightened his grip on Leonard’s jaw, tilting his face to the most optimal angle. Spock was not shy, or nervous, or awkward.  When his lips crashed down onto Leonard’s, Leonard thought he might faint- simply collapse like a damsel in distress out of one of his romance holos. Spock kissed like he did anything else he deemed worthy of his attention. Before Leonard quite knew what happened, his back was crashing against the bulkhead while Spock’s lips moved over his, licking into the seam of Leonard’s lips as though they had kissed hundreds of times before. Leonard could barely keep up. Eventually though, he managed to rip his lips away from Spock’s, long enough to suck in two deep breaths. Instead of stopping, Spock just shifted and began nuzzling at Leonard’s jaw, his cheekbone, the spot behind his ear.

“Your logic is faulty,” he repeated, his voice a low growl in the back of his throat. Hearing it did things to Leonard’s stomach. “Your assumptions, no doubt based on excellent methods of research, did not provide the result that you wished. You assume that I was not cognizant of the fact that it was you that I allowed to touch me, Doctor McCoy.” Spock bit down on Leonard’s earlobe.

Granted, Leonard was having a little trouble keeping up, especially given that all of the blood in his brain seemed determined to travel southward as quickly as it could, but even that made sense to his lust-fogged brain. “You… you _knew_?”

“Indeed.” Spock pulled away just enough so that he could look into Leonard’s hazel eyes, his left eyebrow cocked high enough that it almost disappeared into his hairline.

Perhaps no one had told Spock that smugness was definitely an emotion.

 “After our conversation in your office, my curiosity to the reason of your irate nature led me to believe that you were experiencing the human emotion of jealousy at the thought of my future sexual congress with another individual. When discussing the matter with the Captain, he too seemed to agree that you were acting in a most perplexing manner.”

Leonard didn’t know what expression was on his face- he had a feeling that ‘soul-stupefying shock’ wasn’t a good look on him- but whatever it was, Spock seemed to take pity on him.  “You launched your tea mug at the bulkhead, resulting in a crash that, while muffled enough for human aural frequencies, was still easily discernable to my Vulcan hearing.”

“But… but the neural-blockers!” Leonard felt his face start to burn with shame as he began to realize just exactly what had transpired here. “You said they were ‘operating at optimal specifications’!”

“I perhaps… exaggerated at their effectiveness.”

“You … _lied_?!”

“Vulcans do not speak untruthfully, Doctor McCoy.”

Leonard shut his mouth with a little ‘pop’ of sound. Spock’s gaze zeroed in on his mouth again with the reminder and began to kiss him again. Leonard moaned a little, overwhelmed with all of Spock’s considerable attention focused onto him. Spock seemed almost to chase Leonard’s moans with his tongue, sucking and licking at Leonard’s mouth as though it were a particularly favorite wine.

“Spock---!” Leonard gasped when Spock pushed his lower body into the vee of his thighs.  He tightened his legs and held on for dear life. “You… you want…” Shit. He couldn’t even talk coherently!  Leonard moved his hands up Spock’s arms, dragging his nails down Spock’s back, desperate to feel his skin. Spock’s body temperature was so much higher that his that he almost couldn’t believe how cold he felt in comparison. He wanted bare skin against his own and he wanted it _now._

“Leonard, I assure you that I am precisely where I desire to be.” Spock actually thrust a little, causing Leonard’s eyes to flutter shut. “You must tell me if this is… that is to say…” Leonard peeked out of his silted eyes to see Spock’s head tilt curiously to the side as he spoke. He looked completely debauched, and the mental image of just how much more Leonard could muss him up before they were done caused him to shiver.

“Oh, hell yeah. I’m exactly where I need to be, Spock. Jesus, Christ, you have no idea how much.”

“Then am I to presume that my strength does not offend your human male sensibilities?”  The smugness was back, this time with a small twitch of the left side of Spock’s lip that on anyone else would be a smirk.

“Fuck, no-- _uuuhhn_.”

Leonard’s breath left his lungs on a huff of air when Spock kissed his ear again, pulling at the lobe with a sharp nip of his teeth. He tried to get his hands situated so that he could get to Spock’s uniform top, but the angle was bad. Spock simply hitched Leonard up the wall, holding him effortlessly with one hand while Leonard scrambled get some leverage to strip off Spock’s shirts. Spock’s hold was precise; pinning Leonard’s hip to the wall, while pressing his lower body to Leonard’s, holding him just on this side of uncomfortably. Leonard tried to rock his hips, his cock practically begging for some friction. Spock responded by lowering Leonard’s sleep pants, and gripping his throbbing prick with his long fingers. Leonard was glad that Spock was holding him up, because he probably would have slithered down the wall. Their bodies were too close together to manage a proper pump of Spock’s hand, but just feeling that hand around him, and knowing it was _Spock,_ was killing him.

Leonard lost himself for several minutes, breathing heavily, almost panting with want.

“Open your eyes, _ashaym_. I wish to watch you enjoy the pleasure I am giving you.”

Right. Okay then. Leonard tightened his hands on Spock’s shoulders, thrusting into Spock’s grip as best he could while Spock kissed at the long column of his neck, biting and sucking kisses into the skin.

“Leonard. Attend.”

Spock’s voice was like some deep, primal growl. The sound _before_ a growl. Leonard heard it, felt the answering flutter deep in his gut, too turned on to be embarrassed at the sound that escaped from his throat in answer and forced open his sex-stupid gaze. Spock’s brown eyes were usually the most human thing about him. True to form, they were almost all pupil as Spock focused on Leonard’s pleasure. Before Leonard could even squirm at the fact that Spock’s hand was just on this side of too much friction, Spock tightened his grip on Leonard’s hip, walking with him to the bed.

Leonard’s lips stretched in a smile, and Spock paused, taking his hand out of Leonard’s pajamas to cup his ass.

“The empirical proof of your … emotional contentment is imminently satisfying.” Leonard landed with a _wuff_ on the bed, bouncing twice before he lay there, sprawled with his red, sticky head of his dick poking out over the waistband of the ancient University of Mississippi sleep pants. “I have never before seen you smile.”

“Oh. Well, I guess I haven’t much had a reason to.”

Spock blinked twice, very rapidly before reaching down to trace Leonard’s lips with one finger.   “Indeed.”

Leonard sucked the tip of Spock’s finger into his mouth, and watched as Spock’s eyes widened, shocked at the quick, sharp scrape of Leonard’s teeth against the soft pad of his skin. “So, let me get this straight. You were pissed because you thought I was... uh. That Christine and I were.. what. Lovers?”

Spock leaned over, pushing Leonard back down on the mattress, sliding his leg over him as though to keep him still. “I find that my... reaction to that thought exemplifies the height of human illogic.”

“Spock...” Leonard pushed at Spock’s shoulder for a second. He loved the idea of just fucking this out of his system, but Jim (damn him) had been right. Leonard really wasn’t one for a casual fuck. Spock simply rolled, moving so that he was caging Leonard with his arms, his knees perched on either side of Leonard’s hips. Leonard bit his lip, looking up at Spock’s face. “Before we do this, I gotta say... I mean, I need you to know something.”

Spock’s face stilled.

Leonard reached up and slid his fingertips over Spock’s cheekbones, over the slope of his nose, over the smooth eyebrows. He was sure that Spock could feel the slight tremor in his fingertips, and to his utter and complete shock, realized that of all of the people he knew, Spock was one of the few that Leonard felt comfortable showing this vulnerability. That more than anything made him realize how incredibly terribly he had fucked this up.  Words seemed inadequate, but they were all he had. “Spock, you have to know that.. this is not a .. causal thing. You said that you were interested in physical intimacy without any ties.  I... I can’t do that.”

Spock’s eyes widened slightly, and Leonard felt his muscles bunch as he started to pull away. Leonard’s hands came down onto Spock’s shoulders, holding him tightly. “No! I mean... for me. Damnit, man I’m just a country doctor, not a poet. I’m not... great. With words.” He took a deep breath. “This isn’t a casual thing for _me_ , Spock. That’s why I was so stupid-jealous. It’s why I thought you were shackin’ up with Jimmy, and why I drove myself half insane trying to figure out a way to keep you safe while you experimented a little. I... I love you.” He lost his nerve, his voice a bare whisper at the end. Leonard licked his lips, his stomach juttering  around  like a Gorn on rollerskates. He made himself let go of Spock’s shoulders, staring up at Spock’s face. 

When Spock leaned down to kiss the corner of his mouth, the petrifed breath Leonard didn’t even know that he was holding left him in a rush of air, blowing Spock’s bangs back. Leonard’s mind was whirling. Spock didn’t seem angry. He had come here in the middle of the night. Hell, his body language made it pretty clear that Spock had no intention of letting Leonard sleep alone tonight. Leonard slid his arms down Spock’s tight shoulders, over the muscles in his back.  Spock shuddered a little when Leonard pressed against the bottom of his spine, and the flash memory of the last time he touched him like this caused Leonard to close his eyes. He felt his cock, which had softened slightly while he had babbled out his declaration, harden fully again. Spock’s nostrils flared, his eyes dilating.

“Spock..?”

Spock nuzzled his nose into the curve of Leonard’s neck and shoulder for just a moment, and all at once, Leonard understood. Spock wasn’t going to be able to be verbally demonstrative. Expecting that would be unfair to them both. But the ‘Spock-watching’ that he’d started had made it perfectly clear that Spock would allow himself to react physically. Leonard thrust a little, and Spock’s head fell back with a tiny huff of sound. Leonard grinned again, delighted.  He tilted his head up and kissed at Spock’s jaw, sucking kisses into the skin until Spock moved again, like a switch had been flipped.  Spock stood up, and removed his boots, his socks and his trousers. Leonard moved, kicking off his own sleep pants so that he was naked then kneeling on his bed. He expected Spock to kiss at his chest, or maybe for him to reach out and  lightly touch his cock again. 

Spock simply pushed him back onto the mattress, held his hips and started mouthing at his dick, trailing kisses and licks up and down the length before opening his mouth and sucking it inside.

Leonard was pretty sure he’d finally found religion. 

Spock wouldn’t let him thrust up into the humid heat of his mouth. Spock took his time, exploring and driving Leonard completely insane. He tentatively rested his hand on the back of Spock’s head, even more tentatively curling his fingers into his hair, unsure of his reception, but when Spock started sucking harder, Leonard couldn’t help the way that he pulled a little, tugging hard on the soft stands of hair.  It was a damn pathetic how quickly he was ready to come, but there was no mistaking the feeling as it curled deep in his gut, lighting up his entire fucking nervous system. Leonard couldn’t keep looking down, seeing Spock’s head moving, feel Spock’s dry forehead brushing against the curled skin of his abs, feeling the way Spock’s mouth moved over him. It wasn’t like Spock was being flirtatious. Leonard didn’t know if if Spock knew _how_ to be flirtatious, but when Spock pulled off his cock, pulling into the painful tug of his hair and calmly met Leonard’s half-opened gaze with his own his prim mouth stretched over the girth of Leonard’s dick, Leonard could only shudder, gasp something that was mostly Spock’s name, and come down Spock’s tight throat.

Spock had a slight bit of Leonard’s come on his lips. He licked them, moving down over the skin of Leonard’s sensitive cock, lapping at wet, spent skin like a cat with a saucer of milk. “God... Spock, your fucking mouth!” Leonard tugged on Spock’s hair, but Spock completely ignored him, finishing his task as competently and as focused as he did everything else.

Leonard could only flop back onto the bed, staring at the Vulcan until his brain decided to come back online.  Spock’s own intense stare was almost unblinking as he watched Leonard watch him. “You...”

“Is something amiss?”

“Very funny.” Leonard looked at Spock’s lithe form as he knelt on the floor, completely naked. The angle was off enough so that he couldn't see all of Spock’s body, but Leonard’s memory was just fine. In his mind’s eye he could see Spock spread out in front of him on the opulent bed in Risa, holding himself open for his mouth, unable to keep his breathing steady. “Come up here.” His voice was still hoarse, his heart still pounding in his chest.

Spock rose gracefully, his solid weight making the mattress creak slightly. Leonard stroked up his arm and smiled at him again, watching the slight darkening of the tips of Spock’s ears.  “You know, I never read exactly what was on your little list. What you wanted to do. What you wanted that ... professional to do.” Leonard moved, wiggling and stretching to reach the lube in the drawer by his bed. “But whatever it is, we’re gonna need this.” Leonard spread his legs open, sitting up enough that he could prepare himself. His leg brushed against Spock’s and they both jumped, as though a current connected them. Leonard immediately pushed back against the lightly furred skin of Spock’s leg, wanting the contact. Spock leaned forward and kissed Leonard again, pressing his body into the mattress. Leonard hid a smile when Spock took the lube from his hand, and he tried not to gasp when he felt the slick fingers probing at his entrance. Spock made a low, deep sound in the back of his throat as one finger slid inside and Leonard smirked, remembering just exactly how sensitive Spock’s fingers were. He clenched a little, watching as Spock’s breath hitched in his chest. Leonard had never been all that much of a fan of fingering, but having Spock’s long, slick fingers inside of him, slowly stretching him open for his cock was slowly causing Leonard’s exhausted dick twitch where it lay against his thigh.

Instinctively he tilted his hips, and Spock’s fingers shifted in him, brushing against the small bump of nerves that caused Leonard to jerk with reaction. “That’s... yeah, _uhhhhngh_ , Spock _Jesus,_ that’s....” Leonard didn’t even recognize his own voice. He could feel the tension in Spock’s body, smell the clean musk of his own perspiration and groaned, biting his lip. Spock pulled out his fingers, used the tip of his middle finger to slide lube around Leonard’s twitching hole, then slid three inside of him, slowly, waiting as Leonard’s body opened up for him.

Leonard couldn’t hold his own weight on his elbows and collapsed back onto the bed, his hand flying out towards Spock’s, tangling their fingers together as the stretch, burned and pulled ... and Leonard couldn’t quite catch his breath. 

“Open for me, Leonard.” 

Leonard’s eyes popped open on command, and Spock kissed him again, their mouths moving filthily together, echoing what Spock’s fingers were doing to Leonard. Spock twisted his wrist and Leonard gasped again, his cock half hard as Spock gently flicked a finger over his prostate, sending Leonard’s whole body twitching until Leonard was screwing himself back down onto Spock’s fingers, panting for air that just seemed barely out of reach of his lungs.

Spock’s fingers left him with a wet squelch of sound, and Leonard felt the lube dribble down his skin, shivery cold in the environmental controls in his room. Spock slid against him, twisting so that Spock was on his back and Leonard was on top of him. Leonard was so dizzy from Spock’s mouth and his fingers and his own fucking _want_ that he barely noticed. Spock’s dick was flushed a dark green and Leonard wanted to choke himself on it wanted to feel it on the roof of his mouth and in his throat, but wanted Spock inside of him more.

It took a few tries. As lithe as Spock was, Leonard felt awkward and gangly as he straddled him, his knee popping in the relative silence of the room. Spock’s fingers were still wet from when they had been inside of him, white-knuckled as they clutched his hips, lifting him up just far enough that Leonard could position himself properly. Leonard balanced himself with one hand against Spock’s chest, the other wrapped around Spock’s dick, fingers clutching him just under the flare of the double ridges. Spock’s hands skittered up Leonard’s back, scraping him just slightly with his fingernails, then back down. Leonard felt Spock reach the fingers on reach hand down over his cheeks, pulling him just slightly open. He licked his bottom lip, positioned the head of Spock’s dick at his own opening, and slowly slid down, taking inch by thick inch until he was fully seated. 

Spock’s hands spasmed once on his hips, leaving the slightest kiss of bruises that Leonard knew he’d be tracing tomorrow, but otherwise let Leonard adjust to having Spock buried deep inside of him. The hand that he’d used inside of him slid down and around, Spock pressing his fingers against where Leonard was stretched wide.

“Fuck! _Spock_!”

Leonard’s balance gave out on him when Spock pressed and he fell forward, bringing his arms up to catch himself, changing the angle of where they were joined together so that Spock slid out of him just slightly. Leonard could feel the muscle almost fluttering as it tried to get used to the girth of Spock’s dick and he breathed through it, staring at Spock staring at him through half-slitted eyes.

Their lips brushed together once, then once more as Leonard slowly began to move. They found their rhythm, rocking together. The tips of Spock’s fingers kept sliding back to where Leonard was stretched around him, like he couldn’t quite believe what was happening.  It hit him then that _this_ was all new to Spock. It didn’t surprise Leonard that Spock was amazing in bed.  Hell, Spock was amazing at every other aspect of his life.  But the tiny little hesitant touches, as though Spock couldn’t quite believe what he was doing were just as amazing as the realization that _no one_ had ever touched Spock like this before.  Spock’s other hand brushed against Leonard’s temple, and the spark of _something_ made Leonard’s whole body light up, going from turned on to ready to come in minutes.

“Leonard. Please, I must...”

Leonard was so shocked that he froze for a minute. He had to shut his eyes, overwhelmed with so many different feelings that for a second he felt like a damn schoolgirl, ready to laugh and cry and babble nonsense at once. It was somehow even more surreal when he felt one of the ridges on Spock’s dick brush against him from inside, pressing so that his own cock jerked from where it rubbed between them, the sweat from his body giving him just enough friction.

He leaned into Spock’s hand, watched the swollen, wet mouth as Spock said something, then Leonard was enveloped in such a deluge of emotion that he couldn’t sort out which feeling belonged to whom. Dimly he realized that he and Spock, that Spock and him, that _they_ were moving together, coming together, entwined together so deeply that Leonard didn’t know where he ended and Spock began. It seemed ridiculous that he was worried that he would never know how much Spock loved him. It was here, enveloping him like the most comforting of hugs, the tenderest of kisses, the most poignant of shared memories. It was one think to know he was lonely. It was another to have every iota of that loneliness filled with such overwhelming adoration that Leonard could only bask in it, like an old cat following around a patch of sunlight.

It took several hours- or minutes- before Spock gently broke away from the meld, both of them still curled together, listening to their breathing sync. Leonard was aware of very little, the brush of lips against his temple, the warm cloth that cleaned him off, the heat of Spock’s body as he burrowed into it, both of them under the covers.

“Leonard.”

“Mmm?” There was just the hum of the engines for a few minutes. Leonard couldn’t seem to help the sleepy, goofy grin that stretched his mouth open, knowing Spock could feel it against his chest. Spock’s fingers brushed over his smile again, before curling in the hair on he back of his head.

“It is of no concern. Sleep well,” Leonard felt the brush of a kiss on his forehead. “My _ashayam_.”

*~*~*~*~*~

“I’m sorry? I couldn’t hear you over the sound of how fucking awesome I am.”

Leonard rolled his eyes so hard that he was afraid that he’d sprained them. Damn infant. He really should have expected the smugness, but somehow he’d hoped that Jim would be more mature than I-told-you-sos. 

Futile damn hope.

“Look, in a way you owe all of this...” Jim flailed his hand, almost flinging the drumstick across the room to where Bones and Spock were sitting on the couch. Spock’s attention was focused on his PADD, resolutely ignoring his smug Captain. “... this lovey dovey shit to me.”

“Really, Jimmy?  How d’ya figure?”

Jim bit down on his fried chicken, trying to smirk and swallow at the same time. Leonard sat there and watched him cough as the chicken went down the wrong pipe, trying very hard not to think of Karma.

“Well, it was me that got you two together! I mean, _I’m_ the one that pointed out that you were acting like an idiot to Spock. _I’m_ the one who is so damn amazing that you were ... and Jesus, Bones. I can’t even believe you actually thought that I was fucking _Spock_ , ugh! Er... no offence. Were was I? Oh yeah. That you were jealous of. If it hadn’t been for me, then you two wouldn’t be bumping uglies every time you’re off shift together.”

“Jesus, Jim! You really need that sensitivity training, Christ.”

“Captain, your logic is faulty.”

It was Leonard’s turn to almost choke on his tea. Spock, who knew exactly why Leonard was trying not to guffaw into his beverage, had the audacity to raise an eyebrow, darting a glance up at Leonard from under his eyelashes.

“How so, Spock?”

“While it may be true that you were the catalyst that pointed out Leonard’s inconsistent emotional reactions towards my actions, you were most assuredly not the individual who deserves the credit for initiating the bond between Leonard and myself.”

“I’m not?”

“He’s not?”

Spock’s lip twitched. He looked up, deliberately meeting Jim and Leonard’s gazes before focusing back on his PADD.

“Indeed. That distinction goes to Lieutenant Commander Scott. It was he who informed me of the terms of Leonard’s wager.” Spock, no fool, waited just long enough before continuing. “He also offered me another, private wager.” Spock turned his head, his intense stare meeting Leonard’s wide-eyed, shocked gaze. “He wished to place several credits on his belief that my Leonard would tell me of his regard before the year was out.”

The silence was so loud that Leonard could faintly hear people walking in the outside corridor.

“ _Spock!_ You... you bet against me?”

“Negative, _Ashayam_. My mother always advised me not to bet on a sure thing.” 

  
  


**_Fin!_ **

 


End file.
